


It's gonna be O-A-K

by larkofchaos



Series: Henry Oak and his Boys [1]
Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Henry-centric, Other, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkofchaos/pseuds/larkofchaos
Summary: Henry has never been the most calm of people, that much is common knowledge. He's always struggled with panic attacks, but he has to try and stay calm when his son who could "Fight god and win," Lark, somehow gets a virus that leaves him unable to eat or drink and with a fever of 106.
Relationships: Henry Oak & Lark Oak
Series: Henry Oak and his Boys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891336
Kudos: 34





	It's gonna be O-A-K

Henry couldn't remember the last time Lark was the twin to get sick. He had such an impenetrable immune system he thought he was incapable of the thing. But here he was, fixing Lark a bowl of soup while he laid on the couch under a fuzzy blanket.

"Here, Birdie. Don't eat it too fast, alright?" He brushed Lark's bangs back and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Sure, his boy was nearly fifteen, but no child is too old for a sweet forehead kiss.

That usual fire Lark had boiling in him was decimated by his case of some virus, and instead of his usual extravagant response to Henry, he just nodded.

"When's Ma gonna be home?" He asked, pushing himself to sit up enough to eat comfortably. His eyes looked like a raccoon’s, deep dark circles around them, sunk and dull. His skin was pale and lifeless. He could pass as a vampire. And that's his the boys went, either they were perfectly healthy, or they nose dove into being couch bound for a week.

"Somewhere around seven, she's bringing dinner. But, I may have to leave here soon. I have a meeting for something. You think you'll be alright by yourself for a little bit?" Henry hated the thought of leaving his boy when he was so vulnerable. Anything could happen in two hours. Especially with how quickly Lark's health could plummet. Last time one of them got sick, Sparrow was fine Friday morning and by Sunday evening they were taking him to urgent care because he had fluid in his lungs.

"I'll be fine, Dad." Lark set his half eaten bowl of soul on the coffee table, snuggling right back down into his blankets. "Hey, could you go get me the plush on my bed? The- the Pichu one."

"Of course, Lark. I'll be right back." Henry stood, making sure Lark was cozy in his blankets and went to grab the stuffed animal. It was rare the twins had toys un-destroyed as kids, but that Pokemon bear Nick had gotten Lark as a birthday gift when they were six? That thing always stayed perfectly intact.

He picked the old, well-loved toy up off the bed. He could see the stitching on its ear where Sparrow had accidentally ripped it when they were seven. Lark cried for hours, wouldn't talk to Sparrow for thirty whole minutes over it.

The young granola-crunching dad trotted back downstairs. Lark was lying limp on the couch, breathing short and shallow. He looked horrid. Henry's going to have to cancel his meeting, he knows that. He's not leaving Lark alone when he looks this bad. Henry should recheck his temperature.

He set the Pichu down in the gap between Lark and the back of the couch, placing his palm on his forehead. God,,the kid felt like fire.

Lark gagged suddenly, throwing the blankets off himself and grabbing the pot he kept on the floor next to him. The soup he'd just eaten came right back up, he sat there, hunched over, crying and dry heaving for a good five minutes. Henry rubbed circles in his back and tried to soothe him. But, Lark couldn't even keep water down anymore. Henry knew he was dehydrated, and he didn't know what to do anymore.

Lark let out a sob, leaning into his dad. Henry held his boy against him, not daring to give a gentleman sway like he usually would.

"It hurts... Everything hurts..." He whimpered. He sounded so small, which wasn't a way Lark Oak-Garcia should sound.

"I know, baby. I know." Henry reached for the thermometer he'd been keeping on the coffee table. He pulled it out of the protective case.

Lark looked at him, his eyes looked so tired. He opened his mouth and let Henry put the device under his tongue. It took a minute, but the thing beeled and Henry checked.

106.7. Oh hell no. Oh heeeell no.

"Get some shoes on, Lark, we're going to the emergency room." He said quickly, pushing himself to his feet and going to grab his keys, phone, wallet, and own shoes.

"Dad, I'm fine, I-"

"Your temperature is one hundred and SIX! That is not fine! Get some shoes!" Henry felt his hands start to shake. No, not now. He felt that familiar crushing feeling of his chest caring in on itself. Not now. Stupid panic attack disorder.

"Dad, really, it'll go down in the hour I'm-"

"Lark Oliver Oak-Garcia, do not argue with me on this please, we are going to the emergency room and that's final. Now put on your shoes!" He knew he snapped, but he was freaking out. He didn't know anything about his stuff. In the Realms, when someone was this sick you'd cast a healing spell and bada-bing bada-boom, he's fine! But this isn't the realms, and there isn't magic! He pressed trembling fingers to his temples, trying to ease himself out of the coming panic attack before he really got consumed in the anxieties. He needed to be Dad right now, not Henry.

He looked around the room, listing off things he could touch or hear or see. Just like Mercedes had taught him.

Deep breath in.... Deep breath out. It's good. Lark's good. Focus on getting him to the doctor.

Henry snatched his keys and phone off the table, grabbing his wallet from the counter in passing and shuffling to get on his Birkenstocks.

Lark was shuffling awkwardly to the door, holding his Pichu plush. He looked nauseous just standing, but both Henry and Lark knew there was nothing left in his system to come back up.

Henry helped him into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt, leaning it back so he wasn't sitting straight up and making himself light-headed. Then, he got himself in the driver's seat and pulled out of the driveway, handing his phone to Lark.

"Call your brother." He said sternly, eyes focused on the road as he moved to the urgent care clinical as fast as possible. Of course Lark listened, and Sparrow came through the Bluetooth of the car.

"Hey, Dad. What's up? How's Lark doing?"

"Hi, Sparrow. Letting you know, Lark's fever is almost 107, so we're going to the emergency room. Don't know when I'll be home, you can stay with one of the boys, or stay at home. I don't care. Mom's gonna be home around seven."

"Uh- oh! Okay. Um... Okay. Thats- okay, Dad. Is he okay? Just a high fever?" Of course Sparrow immediately sounded absolutely terrified.

"Don't panic, Lark's good. He's just... He's low on fluids, his fevers high. I'll send you plenty of updates, promise. But, I gotta let you go cause we're here and I need to get him in. I love you so much, Sparrow."

"I... I love you too, Dad. And Lark. I- okay. I'll probably stay at Terry's."

"That's fine, call me when you get there, okay?"

"Okay... Bye."

"Bye, Sparrow.

\------------

Henry paced the waiting room. It's not that they were doing anything major to Lark, just running some standard health checks and getting him settled in a room for the night. But, your pride and joy, your beautiful son whom you love more than life itself being in a hospital room without you? Terrifying. Fucking terrifying.

Darryl had arrived about five minutes ago, and was currently trying to get Henry to stand still.

"Darryl, Darryl, darling, you're wonderful but you really need to shut the fuck up. If I sit, I will stop the adrenaline rush and when I stop the adrenaline rush my thoughts start going-"

"Henry-"

"and that means my brain turns back on and when my brain turns back on, it means I'll probably have a panic attack and I really don't want to have one right now,"

"Henry!"

"at this moment, because for the love of god, Darryl, I need to know when my boy is okay and I can't know when my boy is okay if I have a panic attack because then I won't be able to-" Darryl grabbed hold of Henry's shoulders and stared him right in the eye.

"HENRY!" Thank god he finally got him to stop going down the rabbit hole, it took Henry long enough. He stared at the other father in the eyes. His mind stopped for a moment. Just a moment. But it was a long enough moment.

Darryl knew the tears were coming before Henry ever showed signs of beginning to cry. He pulled him into a tight hug and just held him there, in strong arms.

"It's okay, Henry. He's fine. Just a high fever and some dehydration. He'll be fine." Darryl promised him.

\------------

And, Darryl was right. Lark was fine. Henry freaked out over nothing. Late that night, Lark was discharged again. After his fever went back down and they gave him fluids.

It was now well past midnight, and Henry was exhausted. He got his just as tired son in bed, tucking him in and making sure the pichu was tucked in Lark's arms. He gave yet another forehead kiss, turning off the lamp.

"Goodnight, kiddo. Hope you feel better in the morning."

And, Henry dragged himself back to his bedroom, where Mercedes laid already asleep. He changed into a pair of pajama pants and crawled in next to her. Like her sixth sense, she rolled over to use Henry as some kind of large teddy bear like she did everything night. It was so nice. He took a long, deep, satisfying breath and settled into his pillows. His eyes became heavy, and he fell asleep faster than he had in years.


End file.
